Rebel Rain
by Kylin MacNeill
Summary: In their sixth year, The Gang, followed by their friend Leon Mason, encounter a new troublemaker who opens up a whole new can of worms for Hogwarts
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Leon Mason belongs to Lord Cargyle, and has been used with permission. The rest of named characters, save for Kylin, are the property of J.K Rowlings and whoever else she deems appropriate. Kylin…Well, Kylin's mine Also, please note that some foul language is used.

This is a fanfic based off a fanfic, based off Harry Potter. I would like to thank Lord Cargyle, and my friend, Lady Rayya for their help in proofreading and opinions. Please feel free to offer some yourself, but please, no flaming. I take criticism very seriously.

Thank you!

----------------------------------------

The rain pelted against the pavement for the third day in a row, with no signs of stopping or even slowing down to allow the people in Diagon Alley to continue their way through their normal lives. That included her. Kylin didn't mind the rain nearly as much as everyone else. It helped mask her from the rest of the crowd, allowed her to move around easier. After all, people didn't notice a slight bump if they were numb with cold. And they definitely didn't notice things missing until they were long gone.

She leaned back against the wall of the building, one foot resting against the brick as her grey eyes scanned the shoppers. Most were bundled too much for her to get any sort of access. Shivering, Kylin wrapped the too-light cloak around her absently. It was going to be a long day.

At the other end of the alley, people were still attempting to gather the things needed for the start of their school terms. Which one would make the best target? Her gaze settled on the group of friends outside of Flourish and Blott's. She was just across the street from them, and while they weren't exactly the type she normally looked for, she figured that they were the closest she was going to get to a meal today. Steeling herself, Kylin stepped out into the middle of the street, grimacing as the rain pelted against the hood of her cloak. She looked as if she were trying to dash into the store, but as she passed the nearest one, a tall boy that didn't seem to stop talking about the wonders of chocolate, she brushed his cloak, her fingers searching. There. Right at his belt were the coins. If she could just manage to get--

A vice-like grip caught her wrist, twisting it roughly as she spun around. She found herself face to face with a her now very angry mark. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" the voice demanded.

"What'd she do, Leon?" asked another of the group. He seemed different than the others, mostly because his hair was darker, but there was no mistaking the scar that peeked out from under his sopping mass of hair.

Kylin mentally kicked herself. Great. Not only was she pick-pocketing a student from Hogwarts, she'd decided to go for a fellow American who just happened to be on good speaking terms with the one and only Harry Potter. Typical. She craned her gaze over her shoulder, her face twisting in a frustrated scowl. "Never try to pick-pocket when your hands are shaking," she said, more as a mental note to herself than anything else. She was well-aware of her own Southern accent as it tilted the words and obscured syllables. Though it wasn't as strong as, say, one from Arkansas or Louisiana, it was easily recognizable when set against the accent that the American carried and enough to catch him off-guard. His grip loosened just enough that Kylin was able to spin, twisting her arm back into place as her leg swung out towards his head. In an instant, he dropped her wrist, grabbing her flying ankle instead. She grinned at him without humor. "Not good enough, Yankee Doodle..." Dropping quickly to her hands, with him still holding onto her foot, she kicked her other leg against his knees, sending him sprawling onto the cobbled street.

It was then that the rest of his party interfered. A fairly tall boy with a sharp flash of red hair and freckles grabbed both her arms, while the two girls and Harry put themselves between her and a now-cursing Leon who seemed to have conjured up a sword out of nowhere. Kylin froze. American. Sword. SHIT! Why in the HELL did she have the worst luck?! Now she had to add attacking a psychic to her list of stupid stunts pulled. Peachy. Just peachy.

"Just what is this all about?!" The high-pitched screech could only come from a mother, and by the looks of her, she belonged to the redheads. Two more followed close behind, one obviously her husband, the other...well, the other seemed a bit sickly, to be honest, as if he hadn't seen a descent night's rest in several months. Kylin thought quickly. She was easily out-numbered, out-gunned, and out-maneuvered...Or were they not fast enough?

She thought quickly, struggling against the lanky boy's hold as much as she dared, her ears straining to catch the heated discussion."

"...Just came out of nowhere..."

"No, it was from across the street."

"...tried to steal my fucking--"

"Leon, don't swear."

"...anyone move that fast?! He didn't even see it..."

They were talking one right over the other, and it seemed she wasn't the only one listening in. The boy 'holding' her was enthralled, trying to put in his own two cents as well. 'Lordie! They're like a herd of braying mules!' She exhaled slowly, forcing herself to ready. It would have to be fast. She'd have to throw the move, twist, duck, and run for all she was worth. If she did it right, she'd have enough time to make it around the building without anyone the wiser...well, they'd know she'd gone, but they wouldn't know where she went.

"...thieves in Diagon? I didn't think..."

Kylin fumbled at her belt. As the Knut fell, it clattered against the street. It was enough of a distraction that the boy ducked down to look. She slammed her head upward and back, rewarded with a sudden crunch and a loud curse as her arms were freed. Even as she tried twisting around the boy, who was now holding a bleeding nose, she felt someone tackle her from behind, pinning her to the ground.

The wind rushed from her lungs from the impact. "None of that, little one," the quiet voice commented in her ear. From what she could tell, it was the man she had thought was in bad shape. And yet, she couldn't move.

"Get off!" she demanded hoarsely, trying to throw her weight to one side. If she could get on her back, she could push him off with her feet.

"Not until you behave."

Kylin struggled for several more minutes until she gave up, lying limply against the street, her mass of black hair obscuring her face from the falling rain.

The man waited several more minutes before pulling her to her feet, though he still held onto her arm, keeping a careful eye on her. "Where are your parents?"

She turned to look at him. There was no way she was going to answer him just now.

"You might as well tell us."

"With all due respect, sir, if I were to tell you where my parents are, you'd have to kill me."

He blinked at that, and the group around them stilled, slightly confused.

"And why is that?"

"Because my parents are American spies, and if I tell you where they are, I've betrayed my country, and if I've betrayed my country...well, they wouldn't be too happy about it, now would they?"

The boy she had tried to pick-pocket (Leon, she had to remember his name was Leon) snorted darkly, his arms crossed over his chest. "Bullshit."

Kylin's eyes narrowed and, surprisingly, she bared her teeth at him. "Try me, Yankee Doodle." she felt herself being pulled sharply to one side as a dagger embedded itself two inches into the concrete beside her head.

Even as Leon lunged for her, the others quickly grabbed ahold of him, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Kylin made to rush him as well, and was restrained by the man still holding her arm. "That's enough, both of you! If we can't straighten this out, we'll take you up to the Wizengamot. I'm sure they could sort all this out."

The effect that had on her was startling. Her grey eyes widened in alarm, searching for the nearest escape, even as she struggling against his hold. There was no more cunning in the moves, only desperation, like a fox caught in a steel trap. "Look," she insisted, "you don't have to go to them. I can just go, you could pretend you never saw me, and this could all just...just blow over."

"You broke Ron's nose!" exclaimed the redheaded girl, pointing an accusing finger at the boy who was obviously her brother.

"It's not broken, and he should have moved out of the way!" Kylin shot back, trying to pry the man's fingers off her arm. It wasn't working.

The motherly figure narrowed her eyes slightly. "Do you have a place to stay, child?"

"I'm not a child," came the instant reply.

The woman arched her eyebrow, folding her arms over her ample chest. "Is that so? Well, you certainly have a strange way of showing it, dear. Now, where are your parents?"

Kylin grew sullen, her gaze dropping down and to the side.

The man next to her leaned down, trying to make her look at him. "I believe Mrs. Weasley asked you a question."

"Tell her to mind her own goddamn business."

Several of the shoppers had slowed, or stopped completely, fascinated by the show that had decided to appear in the middle of the rainy street. "Why don't we take this inside the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry Potter suggested. "At least there, we could get a private room and stay out of the rain."

The red-headed man, Mr. Weasley, nodded vigorously. "An excellent idea, Harry! Why don't you run ahead and see that things are prepared. Leon, go with him."

"But--"

"Please, Leon. Don't cause any more trouble! Just do as I say."

The boy shot Kylin a nasty glare, which she more than happily returned, going so far as to stick her tongue out at him to add to the effect. "See you there, Yankee Doodle."

The group waited until they were sure that the arrangements would be made and things in place before entering the pub. Thankfully, the request had been granted, and it wasn't long before they were seated in a private sitting room, nestled in chairs close to a large fireplace, mugs of butterbeer and cocoa in their hands. Save for Kylin. She sat in the middle of her own little couch, as if being sentenced to her own death. How she loved the British.

"Now, let's start at the beginning. What's your name?"

Kylin leaned back in the seat, her hands folded delicately in her lap. "Jimmy Crack Corn, and I don't care," she replied.

The scrawny man frowned. "You do realize that Mr. Weasley is with the Ministry. I'm sure he could pull a few strings and get you an early hearing." Even in the ruddy light of the fireplace, her face paled. "I will ask you again. What's your name."

She was silent for several long moments, and he moved to open his mouth again. "Kylin Elizabeth Savich." Her answer was short, angry, bitter, almost as if the name were acid against her tongue.

The man nodded slowly. "Progress at last...Where are your parents?"

"4357 Ocean Drive, Corpus Christi, Texas, Section GP, three markers to the north, one marker to the west."

That quieted the room in a heartbeat. "That's very exact..."

"Hard to forget where your parents are buried." She turned her gaze up to the boy who had been the cause of all this trouble. "Isn't it, Leon?"


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER Leon Mason belongs strictly to Lord Cargyle, and is used with permission. Likewise, Kylin is mine, and the others are the property of JK Rowling. On a side note, I have been told that Fleur's accent may be off. That's my fault because I haven't been able to speak with a lot of native French-speakers, so, sorry Anyway, hope you enjoy!

The question of what to do with her bantered back and forth between several of the Ministry's members. For a reason that was beyond her, they'd decided to overlook the assaults and burglaries she'd participated in over the last few weeks, including the ones against the Weasleys and the rest of their little posse. What was even more surprising was when the Weasleys volunteered to take her in until she was old enough to be considered of-age in the wizarding community. That meant one and a half years of living with the Reds and Yankee Doodle. Kylin was less than thrilled, and Leon was of the same mind.

"I am not living under the same roof as her!" he shouted at anyone who would listen.

The day she arrived at the Burrow was one that would, as someone so eloquently said, live in infamy. She couldn't imagine why anyone would want to call their home a burrow, but she was starting to see a connection by the way they'd all had to cram into just two cars for the ride back. She pressed herself tighter against the door, glaring out the window in sullen silence while the others in the car made small-talk.

"Hey. How did you know my parents were dead?" Leon asked suddenly.

Kylin didn't even glance back at him. "You were calling Mrs. Weasley 'Mom,' yet you have an American accent. That was the first hint. You're psychic, they're not, and it runs in the family. That was the second. Third..." She turned to look at him, squinting her eyes slightly as they shifted between Leon and Ginny, who sat next to her. "Yall don't have the same eyes," she concluded, nodding her head once.

The others in the car stared at her. Kylin shifted in her seat. "It wasn't that hard to figure out..." she mumbled, dropping her gaze to the window again.

In his seat, Leon snorted darkly, turning his own eyes away as well.

The rest of the ride was surprisingly uncomfortable. Kylin kept her attention fixed on the scenery outside the cars. She'd never been outside of London, so when they finally reached the Burrow, she didn't know what to say. It was as if someone had decided to do a clay model of a child's drawing, then expand it into a life-sized living establishment. She'd...never seen anything like it. Over four stories tall, there was no way it should have been standing, leaving her to believe that magic had a very strong hand in its construction. She swallowed hard, still half-way in the car. The others were already pulling bags out of their cars, carrying them up to the bizarre house.

Mrs. Weasley paused and glanced back at her. "Kylin? Are you coming?" she asked.

The voice was enough to jolt her from her shock. She blinked, looking quickly to the family. "Yeah.."

"You miss the next one, Ron, and I swear..."

"You're the one dropping the Quaffle!" Ron answered his sister in a sharp retort.

After those who didn't normally live in the house had started to pack things away, and with Mrs. Weasley fighting with a blonde young woman named Fleur about the wedding between her and Bill Weasley, it had seemed a good idea to let out some steam. And so, they had settled into a 'friendly' game of Quidditch. Well, some of them had, at least. Leon had taken to practicing some of his psychic fighting styles, Hermione watching not too far away, and Kylin had settled against a tree in the orchard to try to watch it all at once. Currently, the argument between Ron and Ginny was one of many, especially after a few snarling retorts about a boy that Ginny was currently seeing from school.

Kylin pulled her knees to her chest, her mass of dark hair spilling into her eyes at every shift, no matter how often she pushed it back. She figured she had most of the basics of Quidditch down. It didn't look all that hard, but the twins were a bit aggressive. She rested her chin against her knees, her eyes narrowing as they turned back to Hermione and Leon. The two were obviously involved, and it appeared to have been that way for quite some time. She frowned. So much of this was new, and so much wasn't. Tensions between her and Leon were still high, and there had been a few times when they had nearly come to blows. It had not gone over well with the rest of the guests and family.

As the fight in the air continued to simmer and boil, with Harry acting as the boundary between the two contesting siblings, Kylin removed her old tennis shoes, wriggling her toes against the dried grass that hadn't survived the heat of the summer. It felt nice, this grass, even if it was dead. It felt nice just being out of the city. She tilted her head up to the branches above her head, a new challenge suddenly coming to mind. She stood, grabbing the lowest one, and swung herself up with ease, her knee hooking on the branch while her hand found the next one up. She was surprised by how easy it was, climbing the gnarled tree. Leaning back against the truck, several yards up now, she took a look at her surroundings once more.

She wasn't prepared for when Leon slammed into her. With a yelp, she grabbed for the branch with one hand while the rest of her slipped towards the ground. The sudden stop made her wince, her arm tingling, but she managed to bring her other arm up, and throw one ankle over the branch. It offered her enough leverage to pull herself back to safety, and she took the opportunity to round on him. "Just what the hell do you think you're doing, Yankee-Doodle?!" she demanded, her cheeks tinged a faint red.

He was just as livid. "I _was_ working on a new form. What the hell are _you _doing?!"

"Minding my own business. Out of all the trees in this place, why did you have to choose this one?"

"Because it's the tallest, the most difficult, and it's the one I always use." He folded his arms tightly across his chest, his eyes narrowing into a glare. "Why are you always in the way?"

Kylin gave him a sarcastic sneer. "Call it a gift."

Even as Leon was about to retort, more shouting could be heard from the house, causing all the bickering in the garden to stop in time to emphasize the shattering of glass that followed the angry voices. Before he could react further, Kylin was scrambling down the tree. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she was off, racing for the Burrow.

"You cannot expect me to just stand here and--"

"Eet is MY vedding! I vill do as I please!"

Mrs. Weasley and Fleur faced each other in the kitchen, both looking fit to be tied, as Kylin carefully noted. A broken plate lay on the floor, obviously dropped from the dishwashing spell that usually enchanted the sink. Kylin hesitated before clearing her throat. "Mrs. Weasley? Is everything okay?"

However, it was Fleur that answered. "No, eet iz NOT okay! 'Ow am I to be ved if I am not allowed my own opinions on such things as ze feast?!"

"I'm sure that it doesn't really matter much to you since you won't be cooking it," Mrs. Weasley replied, her voice strained with suppressed anger. "Merlin knows you've controlled every other aspect of this day."

Kylin seriously considered backing quietly out of the room. If she was lucky, she could avoid being caught in the crossfire. However, the glares the two women were throwing at one another changed her mind. If she just left, something might mysteriously catch fire or be skewered. "What do you want her to cook?" she asked, steeling herself as she faced Fleur.

"I vould like French dishes. It eez our tradition."

Kylin could understand that. She turned to Mrs. Weasley, who was already replying, "I believe we should use some of my grandmother's recipes." The plump woman folded her arms tightly across her chest. "It is _our _tradition."

Kylin took a step back, leaning against the heavy table in the middle of the kitchen. "Why not do both?" The shock of that statement brought both sets of eyes to rest on hers, and for a moment, Kylin understood exactly how a deer felt when faced with on-coming headlights. "Or not..."

"You can't just expect us to combine British and French dishes!"

"Why not?"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes bulged again, and Kylin beat a hasty retreat. As she stepped out of the kitchen door, shutting it quickly behind her, she heard another explosion of fighting and winced. "Note to self...never get involved with wedding plans..."


	3. Chapter 3

DISCLAIMER!!!! Leon Mason belongs to Lord Cargyle, and is used with his permission! Kylin is mine, and the rest belong to J. K. Rowling. As for the magical 'theories' (for lack of better phrasing) used in this chapter, they are a sort of cross-over between four individual series: Harry Potter, of course, The Sword of Truth by Terry Goodkind, The Belgariad, and the Mallorean, both written by David Eddings. Mild swearing is definitely a possibility, as with the other chapters. Non-flammatory comments and critiques are most welcome.

 

The night was silent. Still. As if all the world had stopped turning for the hunt. No night birds called. No breeze stirred the deadened grass of the sweltering summer, lifeless under the ancient, towering trees. The naked oak limbs reached for the full moon, as if in yearning, casting streaks of shadow over the abandoned dirt road. It was a story book image, if the story was to be about some obscene, taboo ritual. What a night for a raid. What a night for a chase.

But she didn't notice. She didn't care about taciturn scenery or bitter springs. To her, the only thing that mattered was her own form, her speed. The feel of the dirt as it was flung out of the way of her paws, the way her form shifted as she turned, her tail acting as a rudder. It was a wonderful run, but it had to come to an end at some point. Approaching the Burrow, she slowed to a stop, her dark-hued coat smoothing against the edges of shadow, obscuring her from view. It would be dawn soon, and they would be looking for her. With a reluctant sigh, she formed a mental image of her human self and allowed herself to melt into it as easily as a stream flowing into a river. Kylin brushed off the last bits of dirt that clung to her jogging pants, and she looked over her shoulder at the trees. "Next time, we'll fly," she promised before starting down the hill, just as Mrs. Weasley was starting to cook a hearty breakfast.

As of now, none knew about her special abilities, and she strove to keep it that way. She'd seen the way wizards and witches felt about the werewolves that were already in their world. She didn't want to see how they would react to a person who could shapeshift completely at will. Jogging down the hill, she let herself into the kitchen, smiling a greeting at Mrs. Weasley, who smiled back. "Out for your run, I see. Did you have fun?"

"Yeah. It was a good morning for a run," she said without turning a hair, pouring herself a glass of orange juice. She took a sip. "Are their any plans for today?"

"Not exactly. We have our own routine for the last day of summer. Usually, it's just me running around, making sure everyone has everything they need."

Kylin chuckled. "I think I'm going to go take a quick shower before the others get up." Without waiting for a reply, she bounded up the stairs, her footsteps light. That was another good thing about running so early in the morning. It left her with the chance to take her shower as soon as she was done.

With her long hair, it was difficult to finish quickly, but she tried her best. As soon as she was done, she stepped back out, changing into a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt that was two sizes too big. Her hair towel-dried and combed into a braid, she headed back downstairs. By now, no doubt, the others would be up.

As she came to the landing, she felt a pair of hands grab her, one of them clamping over her mouth, the other wrapping around her waist to stop her from moving forward. "Don't make a sound," Leon hissed. He nodded once towards the kitchen. Voices argued back and forth, trying to be quiet, as if to not wake anyone, but as close as they were, Kylin could hear them clearly.

"All you have to do is tell us where she is. Not that difficult, is it?" A man's voice, clearly. His accent spoke of a higher-born family.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Quiet now, Molly…You don't want to wake your family, do you? Give us the girl, and we'll leave. She's not worth your children."

"With all due respect, Minister, I think it's best if you leave now."

A silence filled the air, the tension felt back to where Leon and Kylin stood. The sudden crack of the Minister's Apparation made Kylin jump, and she swallowed hard, even as Leon spun her around to face him. "What the fuck does the Minister want you?" he demanded in a harsh hiss.

Kylin took a step back, yanking her arm out of Leon's grip, her heart in her throat. Without a word, she hurried down the last of the stairs and into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway. Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the table, one hand to her forehead, looking worried, troubled.

Leon stepped in behind Kylin, shouldering her out of the way. "Mom? You okay?" he asked, sitting down next to her. He didn't even look at the girl still standing by the door.

"I'm fine, Leon dear." Mrs. Weasley looked up, her gaze meeting Kylin's solemnly. "Kylin. I think it might be best if we had a little talk."

It was all going to come out into the open now, she knew. Just like she knew that her staying here had put too much pressure on the Weasleys. She swallowed hard, leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Her gaze drifted slowly to Leon, and she met his eyes reluctantly. "Yeah, I think so too."

Arthur sat next to Molly, waiting for Albus to say something. Anything. The old man's eyes were distant, processing what he'd been told. "I have heard of something similar to this in a Muggle story," he finally admitted. "But in the real world, it is not very common. I would hazard a guess that there are more psychics than there are of her kind."

"What exactly is her kind?" Molly asked, her hands wrapped around her tea cup.

"I've never heard of any name for them, but from what I've heard, it develops when there is an absolute lack of our traditional magic in a person."

The Weasleys looked at each other in confusion before Arthur spoke up. "Forgive me, Professor, but isn't that what Muggles are?"

"Not exactly. According to some scholars, back before history was written down, wizards and Muggles intermarried quite often. In fact, most of the Muggles that are on this earth do, indeed, have a very tiny, very useless trace of magic within them, somewhere in their ancestry. Yet, there are a small few, including Kylin, that are entirely without magic. In order to keep up with the rest of the population, they were forced to adapt, and by doing so, they unlocked a part of their brain that wizards, Muggles, or even psychics have no contact with.

"This enables Kylin to manipulate objects around her, and even her own shape by interrupting the magnetic waves around her. All she has to do is think about what she wants to happen, whisper a word, any word, and the task is completed. However, a downside to this ability is that it creates a certain amount of noise that others with the same ability can hear. If the person uses their talent, and isn't used to it, it can be considerably loud."

Molly frowned. "What would the Minister want with her then? How could that ability possibly help?"

He leaned forward in his seat, his expression rather grim. "Allow me to finish, Arthur. One of the most notable traits for these people is that they do not travel by normal means. Instead, they shape shift into an animal of their choice. Each person has their own preference. I've heard of some who love owls, hawks, and gulls, some who love small mammals, some who love fish and whales, and then there are some that prefer normal carnivores, tigers, wolves, and the like. Such talents are wonderfully useful for spies, and I have no doubt that's what the Minister is planning for Kylin."

"He can't do that. Why must he insist on using all of these children for his own personal army?" Arthur was suddenly livid, his face paling before darkening into a brilliant shade of red. "If the Minister stoops low enough to try to bully my wife so that Kylin will spy for our side, it's only a matter of time before You-Know-Who realizes what she can do as well."

Albus thought about it for a moment. "I think that Kylin should attend Hogwarts with the rest of your children. We would be able to keep an eye on her and she could learn about the sort of magic she might come into contact with in the future."

Molly blinked. "But…wouldn't that cause more conflict? She'd have to be entered as a first year. That's such an age difference."

"Not at all. I plan to have Kylin stay as close to Ron and his friends as humanly possible. She will be entered as a Sixth Year Gryffindor."

"But she would still be so far behind the others!"

Albus chuckled softly. "My dear Molly. Those such as Kylin are terribly observant. They do not think the same way we do, and they are able to unveil the way we do things. There was one incidence in which one such of these was present when a Patronus was performed. When given the wand, he repeated the process flawlessly, and produced his own."

"And you believe that Kylin is capable of this as well?"

"Well, we could always test her," Albus suggested lightly. "If we show her one spell and hand her the want, theoretically, she should be able to repeat it easily." He glanced up, even as the girl let herself silently into the kitchen, keeping her back pressed to the wall. "Perfect timing, my dear." His voice was warm, and yet, there was no change of expression from her. Albus didn't seem to notice. Turning to Molly, he said, "Molly, would you be so kind as to break two empty teacups for us?"

If Mrs. Weasley was surprised by the request, she didn't show it. Rising from her chair, she went to the cupboard. The shattering of the glass made Kylin swallow visibly. Albus pulled out his wand, pointing it carefully at one teacup. "Now, Kylin, I want you to watch carefully…_Repairo_." The pieces of the teacup flowed back into place flawlessly, melting together as if they had never separated. He turned to Kylin, holding out his wand. "Repair the other teacup, if you please."

"I don't need that."

"We know, but in order to at least attempt to stay hidden, you have to blend in. Do you know how to work the spell?"

"The fluctuations of the voice pattern, determined by the word, react with the magical properties of the wand's core, causing the desired reaction."

While Albus merely nodded, the Weasleys looked at each other in shock. "And that's the way our magic works?" Molly asked. Kylin nodded. "And what about the silent spells that have been cast?"

"The same principles apply. Instead of the voice, the core follows the patterns made by the brain. Your mind will think the word, which causes the exact same fluctuations of the brain's magnetic waves as when you're saying the spell." With a slow breath, she took Albus's wand, her gaze lingering on the teacup before she finally uttered the word. "_Repairo_." The pieces moved sluggishly across the table, molding back into the shape of the original teacup, but it wasn't as flawless as Dumbledore's. She grimaced, frowning down at the wand.

"Even better than I'd hoped!" Albus exclaimed happily. "My dear, you know the concept of how our spells work, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Yet, you find completing the spells difficult?"

Kylin exhaled sharply, her grey eyes hardening. "If I didn't find them difficult, I'd use them, Professor."

The man chuckled. "I know. Why don't you go on now? I would like to talk with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley now." While the girl didn't seem at all convinced, she didn't argue. As soon as the door was closed again, Albus turned back to Arthur and Molly. "I was worried that she'd be able to complete the spell perfectly. This way, she can slip into the rest of the students without raising much suspicion." He rose to his feet, the other two following suit. "All will be well. Trust me." And with that, he Apparated out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4

DISCLAIMER!!!! Leon Mason belongs to Lord Cargyle, and is used with his permission. Kylin is mine, and the rest belong to J. K. Rowling. Rated for Mild Language.

 

The bustle of the city seemed almost like a homecoming for Kylin, but she didn't have long to revel in that conclusion. Mrs. Weasley herded the group forward like cattle, pushing through the crowd as easily as a stick slides through water. Her grey eyes bright with excitement and familiarity, Kylin was more than happy to merely allow herself to be steered for now. Still, as they reached King's Cross Station, moving through the crowd grew more difficult and her fingers twitched to attention at the close proximity to the people around her. She found herself scanning them, analyzing as carefully as if she had never even met her new 'family.'

"Keep moving," Mr. Weasley said tightly, urging the students towards the train. "We're a bit late as it is."

"Can't have you falling behind, Kylin," Ron tossed over his shoulder.

The reply prompted a sharp smack on the shoulder by his sister. "It's your fault we're late in the first place!"

Kylin grinned, allowing Mr. Weasley to usher her up the train's steps. To her surprise, he put his hand on her arm, halting her progress when she reached the top. As she turned around, he turned over the hand so that the palm stayed up. "Kylin, if you please."

It was obvious that feigning innocence wouldn't work this time. She sighed heavily, rolling her eyes before reaching into the pocket of her jeans and pulling out two billfolds. "It was just for practice. I would have sent them back as soon as I could have."

"Of course. You might refrain from such practice while at the school, hm?" With a final pat to her arm and a smile, he stepped back, letting her scramble her way onto the train.

It was just as packed inside the train as it had been outside. Students pushed, trying to get to the empty compartments, to meet up with their friends, or to find lost items. Kylin paused a moment. Where had the others…There! She saw Harry slip into a compartment, closing the door behind him, and she started forward without thinking.

It was surprising to suddenly find her path blocked. The boy sneered down at her. "What have we here?" he asked, and the goons behind him snickered.

Kylin skidded to a stop, her hair falling over one shoulder. "Writing a book?" she demanded.

The boy laughed. "American? You're a long way from home." He took a step forward, his gaze traveling up and down her form. "Too bad."

Kylin bristled. "Hey. Keep your eyes in their sockets," she warned. Shaking her head, she stepped to the left, shouldering her way past him. It only led to her path being blocked by the two goons. She rolled her eyes. "You've gotta be kidding me," she muttered darkly. "Look, I don't have time for this right now, so if you'll just move over a little, I'll let you try to beat the crap out of me later. Deal?"

The thug closest to the window rolled his shoulders menacingly. "What do you mean, try?" His accent was almost too thick to make out.

"Aw, I'm sorry. Was 'try' too big of a word for you to understand?"

The boy bristled, and the blonde swaggered back to join the bodyguards. "Calm down, Goyle. She's more bark than bite." His accent wasn't nearly so thick, but the sweet, velvet texture instantly put her on high alert.

Kylin arched an eyebrow. "Care to test that theory, peacock?"

"Malfoy." The boys turned as one in response to Leon's quiet warning. Surprisingly, though, the blonde merely sneered again before stepping back passed Kylin. His bodyguards followed. After several moments, she finally allowed her gaze to meet his. He shook his head. "Can't you ever just stay out of trouble?" he rebuked.

"Character flaw," she shrugged, ducking under his arm easily and entering the compartment.

Hermione glanced up from her textbook, giving Kylin a smile of welcome. "What was that all about?"

"She was flirting with Malfoy."

"I wasn't flirting, Leon. He wouldn't let me get past him." She flopped unladylike onto the nearest seat, leaning against the wall. "Who knew that there were asses in England?" she added mildly, pointedly ignoring Leon's teeth-grinding.

"Don't swear, Kylin." Hermione murmured, turning back to her book.

In the opposite seat, a boy and girl watched with undisguised curiosity. "What are you doing here?" the girl asked bluntly.

Kylin arched an eyebrow. "And people say I'm the rude one." The girl didn't seem to hear.

Ron cleared his throat. "Luna, this is Kylin." He had sat down next to the blonde-haired girl. "Ky, this is Luna and Neville."

"Nice to meet you." The silence that filled the compartment almost made Kylin want to cringe. She couldn't stand quiet for very long. Glancing around, she stood on her seat, rummaging in the case she'd thrown up there when she'd first arrived.

"What are you doing?" the boy Neville asked.

"Relieving the mood a little." Kylin sat back down on the seat, an ancient guitar cradled in her lap.

"Where did you get that?!" Ron demanded.

"Your attic." Kylin hummed slightly as she strummed a simple set of chords. "I figured no one was going to be using it, so I brought it with me."

"I didn't know you could play."

"You didn't ask. Now, who has a request?"

Before any of them could answer, the door to the compartment slid open. A girl that looked a good three years younger than them stood in the opening, breathless. "I'm supposed to deliver these to Leon Mason, Neville Longbottom, and Harry P-Potter." Her voice cracked over his name, her face exploding into a violent scarlet.

Kylin chuckled, strumming another random chord.

Neville was already reading the invitation he'd been handed. "Who's Professor Slughorn?"

"New teacher. Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?" Harry didn't seem very pleased about it.

"Not necessarily. You could just stay here and pretend to be possessed by a very lazy demon that wants to catch a few Z's."

"I can tell by your tone, Ky, that you think you're funny, but you're not."

"Aw! Ron, I'm crushed!"

"Enough, you two." Harry stood, stretching.

"But what does he want me for?" Neville asked nervously.

"No idea." He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Listen, let's go under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malfoy on the way, see what he's up to."

Kylin blinked. "I don't think being creepy is a reason to be spied on."

"He's more than creepy," Leon muttered. "And trust me, he needs to be spied on."

She rolled her eyes slightly and merely sat back in the seat, playing out a complicated string of chords again. "You're awful morbid. More so than usual."

"I just have an uneasy feeling, that's all."

"Geez. One might think you psychic or something."

Leon rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Kylin," he sighed wearily.

Hermione glanced at him, pausing slightly. "You sure you're okay?"

"Fine." He met her gaze, smiling slightly before kissing her cheek. "See you guys after a bit, okay?"

"They're still not back yet."

"Really. I couldn't tell." Kylin was nervous. She'd put away the guitar and was pacing restlessly around the cramped compartment. Her arms were folded across her chest, her dark hair still in its pigtails, though she occasionally tugged at the Hogwarts uniform she now wore. Her sharp retort was laced with heavy sarcasm, another warning side.

Hermione frowned, but kept her gaze on the book she still held. "Kylin, sit down."

The other girl did as she was told. In the next minute, she was up again, peering down the hall. From behind, she heard the book snap shut, and she glared at Hermione from over her shoulder. Kylin growled a warning, baring her teeth slightly.

The look of surprise on Ron's face was enough for Kylin to realize what she'd done. "Dammit…" She exhaled sharply. "I need some air." Without waiting for a reply, she slipped through the compartment door, closing it sharply behind her.

She waited until she was several compartments from her starting point. Only when she was sure they weren't watching did she break into a run. It wasn't like her to slip like that, and it wasn't like her to worry over someone else, but the fact that Harry and Leon had been gone for so long was just nerve-wracking. And she didn't understand why.

At the end of the hall was a door that led to the next car. Maybe if she just stood out there, listened to the moving train, she'd be able to get herself under control. She wasn't prepared when the door to the last compartment opened and the people started filing out. She ran into the first person in line and fell flat on her back.

Neville was just as shocked as she was, but he was able to recover a bit faster. "Are you alright?"

Kylin stared up at him, dumbstruck for perhaps the first time in her life before she let her breath out in a huge rush. "I'm fine." She pushed herself up to her feet, only to trip over the hem of her robes. As she regained her balance, she cleared her throat. "So, y'all got out of the meeting okay?"

Neville blinked. "Didn't they come back to the compartment?"

"No…Should they have?"

"They left right after Zabini. That was quite a bit ago. I would have thought they would have gone back to the compartment."

Kylin's internal alarm was buzzing again, and unfortunately, it had no snooze button. She swallowed carefully, trying to feign indifference. "Who's Zabini?" she asked curiously.

"He's a Slytherin that was invited to Professor Slughorn's compartment." Neville stepped to the side, letting some of the others slip through so that they could get ready for the train's arrival. As they filed past, he seemed to notice her unease. "I'm sure they're fine. Maybe they decided to follow after someone else," he suggested.

"Maybe…" She leaned against the far wall, her gaze distant for the barest of moments. "We must be there," she said finally. "The train's slowing down." Indeed, the train had started to slow down, and out of the nearest window, the castle's lights were fully visible. Kylin watched the building before smiling humorlessly. "A castle. It's always a castle."

--------------------------------

Okay, I know. Not the best in the world, but I needed to get things moving. Next chapter will be MUCH better, I swear!


	5. Chapter 5

DISCLAIMER!!!! Leon Mason belongs to Lord Cargyle, and is used with his permission. Kylin is mine, and the rest belong to J. K. Rowling. As always, mild language is a factor.

 

The castle seemed to be more than any normal castle, but what else was to be expected from the wizarding world? Kylin craned her head up again for the third time since they'd arrived, watching the enchanted ceiling with fascination. If she could figure out how to do that to a bedroom, she wouldn't have to worry about missing the stars. Next to her, Ron rolled his own eyes at her reaction. "It's not that special!" he exclaimed with an exasperated sigh. "It's just the Great Hall. It's been like that for ages."

Kylin's elevated mood evaporated, and she glanced over at him, her eyes narrowing. "Keep pushing your luck, Weasley," she muttered. "I dare ya." As if to make good on her promise, she grabbed her fork.

Even though she was teasing about the entire situation (well, to a point, anyway), the fork was suddenly taken from her grasp, and Leon's voice echoed over her head. "Knock it off." He sat down heavily next to Hermione, Harry taking the seat next to him.

"Where have you been?" Hermione questioned, more concerned than annoyed, it seemed.

Kylin's eyes, however, were locked on Harry's face. "Harry, did you run into a tree or something?"

"Not exactly. Why?"

"Because you look like roadkill."

That got Ron and Hermione's attention. "Harry!" Hermione gasped. "You're covered in blood! Come here…" She raised her wand, said "_Tergeo_!" and siphoned off the dried blood.

"Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?"

"As bad as it always does," Kylin answered.

Hermione shot her a look. "Normal. Why shouldn't it? What happened?"

Leon shrugged. "We'll tell you later, up in the common room."

The conversation turned to the Sorting, and other business she didn't know about, so Kylin dug into the food, keeping an ear open in case she missed something.

"Hat say anything interesting?" Harry asked, taking a piece of a pastry Kylin didn't recognize.

"More of the same, really. Advising us all to unite in the face of our enemies, you know."

"Dumbledore mentioned Voldemort at all?" Leon's question was casual, as if he'd just asked about the weather outside.

"Not yet," Hermione answered, just as casually. "But, he always saves his proper speech for after the feast, doesn't he? It can't be long now…"

Kylin's mind drifted away from the conversation, and her eyes wandered over her new surroundings. The Great Hall had a very old, very traditional layout, though it took her a moment to figure it out. When she did, she grinned widely. "It's an abbey," she said aloud, interrupting the conversation.

Four pairs of eyes turned to her in confusion. "Say again?" Leon challenged.

"The Great Hall. Its layout mimics that of an early Christian abbey."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

His bitterness wasn't lost on her, but she didn't have time for it just now. She was on a roll. Grabbing the nearest linen napkin, she folded it several times until it made a cross. "When Christianity was first accepted, the cross became a focal point in it, mostly because Jesus of Nazareth was crucified. Course, there is some speculation that Christians also stole the cross from other religions, but most of those have their own stories, like the circle in the Celtic Cross being the Eternity of the Sun or the Swiss even-armed cross establishing peace…"

"Is there a point to this?"

"Patience, Leon," Kylin grinned. "I'm getting to it. Now, the Christians were so devoted, or obsessed, depending on how you look at it, that their early churches and abbeys were designed in the shape of the cross, like so." She turned the napkin slightly. "The longer end of the cross was the back, while the shorter head was decorated with an altar to the Lord." She glanced up to the front of the Hall again where the professors sat at a long table. "See?"

"I still don't see why this is so important."

It was Kylin's turn to roll her eyes, and she swiveled on the bench, pointing to the fireplace from where she sat. "You have two different colored stones, and the change is easy to see as you follow it from ceiling to floor. The same change appears on the other side of the Hall, and on the other side of the fireplace. The arms of the classic cross were cut off by whoever founded your school, not only to hide the building's original construction, but also probably as a mockery to the Catholic Church."

That seemed to get their attention, though Hermione's gaze was decidedly confused. "Why would they want to do that?"

Kylin turned to face them again. "If they used the stones that were found around here, then I would place the original building exactly in the middle of the Dark Ages. Witches and sorcerers were hunted down relentlessly by the Church at that time. Maybe your founding fathers had a sick sense of humor, and used an old church as a way to continue what their enemies saw as a terrible sin." She leaned back slightly, watching as the others exchanged startled glances before clearing her throat sheepishly. "Or they just used the building because it was still standing…"

Leon looked about ready to retort, but movement at the front table stopped whatever he was going to say. Albus Dumbledore stood behind the podium, and the Hall quieted. It didn't last long. It seemed everyone could see the man's hand from where they respectively sat, and each one had their own questions. Dumbledore wasn't deterred. "Nothing to worry about," he said cheerfully. "Now, to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…"

The others had shifted back to another conversation, and Kylin averted her attention reluctantly away from the headmaster in an attempt to catch a few words.

"His hand was like that when I saw him over the summer," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I thought he'd cured it by now, though. Or Madam Pomfrey would've done."

"It was like that when he came to talk to me at the Burrow…I thought it had always been like that," Kylin confessed.

Leon snorted. "Yeah, because everyone has a dead hand still attached."

Her eyes flashed dangerously, but Hermione hastened to cover up the soon-to-be brawl. "But there are some injuries you can't cure…old curses…and there are poisons without antidotes."

"…We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?!" The word echoed throughout the Hall, and the air was suddenly thick. Kylin frowned in confusion but she didn't have time to voice her question.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising his voice so it carried over all the whisperings, "will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"NO!" Harry's sudden shout was enough to jolt Kylin's gaze back to him, and it lingered there, watching the fury drain the blood from his face. What was so bad about that, anyway?

"Who's Snape?" she asked, looking towards the professors again.

"A bad egg," was Ron's only answer. Kylin glanced back at him, her eyes traveling over the others at the table she knew. There was an unspoken outrage in all of their features; and they were just the tip of the iceberg. All along the Gryffindor table, angry mutterings met her ears, and those in the tables on either side of them as well. Only one table, at the far end, didn't seem to mind the announcement, and as she scanned the faces, she noticed the blonde boy from the train.

"If he's such a bad egg," she asked slowly, "why doesn't Malfoy care about it?"

"Bad eggs stick with bad eggs. Course, in your case, it's an exception."

Kylin opened her mouth to counter Leon's retort, but Harry's voice carried first. "Well, there's one good thing," he said savagely. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year."

"What do you mean?" Kylin asked.

"That job's jinxed. No one's lasted more than a year…One professor, Quirrell actually died doing it…Personally, I'm going to ke my fingers crossed for another death."

"Harry!" said Hermione, shocked and reproachful.

"He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year," Ron mused reasonably. "That Slughorn bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn't."

Leon snorted. "Moody was also locked in a truck for the duration of the year while a psychopath rampaged through the school."

Kylin stared at them, trying to follow the conversation to the best of her abilities. "Wasn't I sent here to keep me safe?" she finally asked. "Sounds like I've just been thrown into the snake pit." It was the group's turn to stare at her, their eyes wide with disbelief. "What? What did I say?"

Up at the front of the Hall, Dumbledore cleared his throat. They were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole room had erupted into a buzz of conversation at the news that this Snape had finally achieved the position he had coveted for so long. Seemingly oblivious to his news' reaction, the Headmaster said nothing more on the subject, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing. "Now, as everyone in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

Kylin saw Harry move again, and she followed his gaze. The boy Malfoy didn't seem to be paying attention to the Headmaster's words; it seemed more amusing to levitate his fork. Her eyes narrowed. It would be so easy to send that fork spiraling straight across the table and out of his reach. Maybe it would accidentally stab his hand in the process…

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of the staff." Next to her, Leon snorted again. She took no notice. "I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them – in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hourse. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, as always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Kylin inhaled slowly, letting the words warm over her. "Yup. Definitely a snake pit."

"Would you stop saying that?!"

Kylin wasn't sure exactly what she'd expected when Hermione had told her they were heading to the common room. She remembered in one story she'd read when she was little that the inn had a common room where everyone met to drink, eat, boast, or tell whatever tales they had gathered throughout their travels. Much like the room she'd been taken to when she was interrogated by Remus Lupin after trying unsuccessfully to rob Leon the first time they'd met. Yet, as she stepped through the moving portrait, though only after a rough grilling by the woman the picture portrayed (no pun intended), Kylin was startled to discover that calling this a common room was probably the biggest understatement she had ever heard. There was nothing at all common about it.

The carpet was a lush scarlet, matching the curtains and the upholstery of the furniture clustered about the huge fireplace. A fire already burned behind the heavy cast iron grill, casting the room in a ruddy glow. It captured the reds in the room and spread the warmth throughout, as if the whole place were threatening to burn down. Tables of dark wood, cherry by the looks of it, added a dark balance to break up the inferno. Over the fireplace, a tapestry of a lion hung. Kylin inhaled slowly, letting herself take it all in.

The moment was broken by the angry mutterings behind her. "You standing their all day?" a voice demanded, and she started, hurrying through to allow the others the chance to file in. For the first time in her life, Kylin felt out of her element, and that put her on a slightly different edge. She drifted to the edge of the room to watch the new people that would be in her life for the next school year, analyzing them. Some seemed to take notice of her, others not so much. She was perfectly fine with that, as long as they didn't ask too many questions.

She was so involved with watching others that she didn't notice someone sit in the chair next to her until he spoke. "It's strange, you know?" Neville said with a hesitant smile, "I'm usually the one hiding in the corner." He glanced at her. "By the way you acted on the train, I'm surprised that you're suddenly so quiet."

Kylin swallowed hard, pulling her knees to her chest as she rested her chin on them. In such a big chair, and with as small as she was, the task was easy to complete. She wasn't sure if what he'd said was an insult or nothing at all. Might as well pretend it was the latter. No offenses then. "It's different here than the train," she said finally.

"How so?"

She wasn't sure how to answer. For a moment, she mulled it over in her mind, watching as old friends hugged and shook hands and slapped backs in welcome. They seemed to think that this was all normal, that they would always return. She wasn't sure why, but there was a sense that something wasn't right. That something was going to change about the people she saw in front of her, and she knew it wasn't going to be stopped. "It's different because…" She paused, turning to meet his questioning gaze. "Because they try to believe it's not real."

That seemed to confuse Neville. He frowned, tilting his head slightly. "What's not real?"

"Kylin!" Ginny raced over, pulling the girl out of her chair before she had time to answer. "I want you to meet some of my friends!" Kylin followed, a bit unwillingly, but not before casting an apologetic smile in Neville's direction. She was surprised to note that her mood lifted when he smiled back.

-------------------

And so, the plot thickens! And, while some might argue that the bit about the connection between the school and the church is unnecessary, it will play a major role in a later chapter, I assure you.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer : Wow, it's been literally forever since I've last updated, and for that, I apologize. I blame lots of factors on that, including my own laziness, but that's in the past now. On with the writing!!

As always, Leon Mason belongs to Lord Cargyle, Kylin to me, and the others are copyrighted by J.K. Rowling. Mild language is doomed to be a factor in this, and later chapters, but there's the warning for that as well.

Reviews are always welcomed! Just don't abuse the power. That means posting something similiar to the following: "OMG, ur story sux! LOL" If you would like to post something about something in the story you didn't like or agree with, please tell me WHY you felt that way, or how it could have been made better.

And now, On with the story!!

--

_"So, you're saying that if a tree falls in the middle of a forest--"_

_"It only proves that a squirrel got squished."_

_Kylin stared at the older man, frowning. "Dad...that makes no sense.."_

_His laughter mingled with the rain pelting against the roof of the car. "If I made sense, would you love me?" _

_She thought about that from the backseat. "Probably not," she admitted. "You'd just be another dad in the world."_

_He chuckled again as the light turned green, and he eased off the brake_--

"NO!" Kylin jolted awake, her heart hammering in her chest as she stared into the sun-kissed dormitory. Where the hell had that come from? She hadn't dreamed about them for years. She exhaled sharply, pushing her hand through her matted mass of black hair. It took her two more seconds to realize where she was. It took her one more to realize that she had classes now. With a sharp curse, she scrambled out of the tangled sheets. They had somehow managed to wrap around her ankles, and she fell out of the four-poster bed, hitting the floor with a sharp yelp.

Kicking free, she grabbed her school uniform, changing quickly, and ran a brush through her long hair. Her stockings in place, she was just putting the last shoe on as she hurried down the stairs. She must have looked quite the sight, stumbling about on one foot, but she managed, skidding to a halt at the sight of the others sitting calmly in the common room.

Leon frowned at her. "What are you doing?"

"Don't we have class?"

"Yeah, not for another two hours.."

"Well, crap." She flopped into the only empty chair in the circle, her heels hitting the floor with a dull thud.

Ron grinned at her. "You look like hell."

Kylin fixed him with a glare. "And you look like a Cabbage Patch Kid."

He blinked, and Hermione quickly cleared her throat. "You were saying, Harry?"

The dark-haired boy had been surprisingly quiet up until now. "I think that Malfoy is working for Voldemort."

The silence between them was shocking. "I agree with Harry," Leon said.

Between the two of them, they explained what they had seen and heard at the meeting, how Malfoy had kept bragging.

Neither Ron nor Hermione seemed at all convinced. "It's obvious that he was showing off for Pansy Parkinson, right?" Ron said quickly, looking to Hermione.

"Well," she said uncertainly, "I don't know...it would be like Malfoy to make himself seem more important than he is, but that's an awfully big lie to tell."

"Exactly," Harry said.

Kylin could feel eyes staring at them, two little pinpoints that seemed to dig into the back of her skull. She frowned, glancing behind her at a group of younger students, who were talking in hurried whispers. "Hey," she growled. "Point that finger somewhere else before I break it off." The boy, who had been muttering something about Harry behind his hand to his friend, promptly blanched and fell out of the hole that led to the hall. Kylin sat back with a smug look.

Leon frowned at her. "Feel better?" he asked archly as he rose from his chair. The others followed suit.

"Much. Thanks for asking."

Ron stretched, sniggering about what had just transpired. "I love being a sixth-year. And we're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit up here and relax." He led the way out from behind the portrait, waiting patiently for the others.

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" said Hermione, as they set off down the corridor.

"Yeah, but not today," said Ron. "Today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

Kylin blinked. "What the heck is a doss?"

--

She sat on one side of the large desk, her arms folded across her chest, her back pressing against the worn wood of the chair. "I still don't know what you want me to say," she said.

Professor McGonagall leaned forward slightly. "Miss Savich, each Sixth year is guided through their year's courses to help them decide and plan for their future--"

"Professor, with all due respect, I'm an orphan and a thief, I've only been in this school for a day and a half, and I'm being hunted down, supposedly, by both your Ministry and the world's most notorious bad guy. I think what classes I choose are the least of my worries."

McGonagall's frown deepened, but she simply wrote out a schedule, and handed it to her. "Ask Miss Granger if you find yourself having trouble."

Kylin took the schedule without another word, closing the door behind her.

The others were already on their way to their first class of the day: Defense Against the Dark Arts. She hadn't forgotten that everyone had seen upset at the choice of professor in that particular subject, and it didn't take her long to find out why, but then, anyone who thinks they're better than their previous colleagues didn't exactly sit well with her.

"The Dark Arts," the man continued, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before--"

"Lernaean Hydra."

Professor Snape froze, glaring down at Kylin, who grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I'll stay quiet."

The man arched his eyebrow higher. "Your defenses," he continued, a little louder, and his eyes still locked on her, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures,' he indicated a few of them as he sauntered past the students, give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse," The overhead slides clicked, showing the designed fate, "feel the Dementor's Kiss," _click_ "or provoke the aggression of the Inferius." _Click_.

Kylin frowned, staring at the last slide, focusing on the bloody mass that lay on the ground. That didn't look like an Inferius attack...Not to her, anyway. After all, Inferi were little more than animated zombies, right? They would only attack people if told to by their resurrectors, so, if it was analyzed, an Inferius wouldn't have aggression. The person controlling it would... She leaned back in her seat, pondering that.

"...you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

There was movement to her right, and she glanced quickly to see Hermione practically dancing in her seat. The professor seemed to roll his eyes. "Very well...Miss Granger?"

"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform," she said urgently, her words practically stumbling over themselves, "which gives you an split-second advantage."

"Unless you decide to do something completely textbook, which gives your opponent just as much time to counter it as you throw it out," Kylin said without thinking.

The class quieted, and once more, Kylin attempted that sheepish look. "Miss Savich, if you continue to make comments during this class, I will see to it that you are removed," Snape said coldly.

It was Kylin's turn to arch her eyebrow, and she opened her mouth in retort--right before she felt Leon kick the back of her heel sharply. That was enough of a hint.

"You will now divide into pairs," the man went on. "One partner will jinx the other without speaking, and the other will counter. Without speaking. You may begin."

Kylin rose to her feet, and it wasn't long before she was put with a Slytherin girl that seemed to have run into a wall at some point. She arched her eyebrow, pulling out the wand that was uncomfortable in her hand. Maybe she could just cheat a little bit.

The girl wasn't even trying to do the task they were assigned. She was whispering the spells under her breath. Kylin frowned, thinking quickly. If she read how the girl's lips moved, she would have enough time to decipher what the spell was, and offer her own 'cheating' counter. It wouldn't be that hard. The girl seemed to pronounce the words carefully; it made her enormously wide lips easy to read. She quickly drew in the energy that was second nature to her, filling her. She held it, inhaling carefully, just as the girl's mouth moved. The counter was in place in seconds, and Kylin whispered, the wind barely passing between her own lips, and the girl flew back. Damn! Too much at once. Kylin whispered again, dragging the girl to a stop in midair, and brought her back down.

Around her, the class had stilled, watching them, and she felt the blush slowly creep up her neck. She hadn't been that careless in months! What was wrong with her? Without waiting for any word from the professor, she hurried back to her desk, grabbed the books, and left the room, her head bowed.

She wasn't the only one leaving. Leon was right behind her, the only student here who knew what she could do. "Gee, Kylin," he said sarcastically. "That was some cover."

"Leave me alone, Leon."

He caught her arm, stopping her. "What were you trying to pull? Trying to show off to everyone?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"It's none of your goddamn business! Now, just leave me the hell alone!" She pulled sharply out of his grasp and broke into a run despite the robes. She just had to get out. Had to get away…. Coming here had been a very bad idea.

--

They called it Forbidden. At least, that's what she'd been told. Kylin sat on the log by the lake, the overgrown trees surrounding her. Maybe it was forbidden for them; she rather liked it. She wrapped her arms around her knees, tugging them close to her chest despite the warmth of the sun. Something wasn't right. She dreams about her parents, then talks back to a professor…. Well, okay, that one wasn't so unlike her, but throwing her power about like that? She'd NEVER done anything like that! She just…. She just needed to get a grip was all. Exhaling softly, she closed her eyes, listening to the chirrups of the birds around her. Course, if she wanted to, she could just go for a run. She hadn't done that this morning. "Maybe that's what's off…." she murmured to herself.

A sudden rustling of leaves next to her took her by surprise, and she froze, her ears straining. She wasn't the only one out here, but whoever it was really didn't want to be known. She frowned, easing her feet back to the ground as she stood. It was easy for her to stay quiet. Taking small steps, she slipped closer, following the sound. The birds had stopped talking, the insects quiet. It was as if the forest had died around her. She held very still, listening to the crunching of leaves. She couldn't see anything yet, but that didn't mean that something wasn't there.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move. Training her attention on that, she held her breath. The dark cloaked figure glided into view, sticking to the shadows. Kylin leaned forward. What was it doing? It knelt down next to a tree and began to dig, searching for something. Its whispered mutterings drifted closer, and her ears strained to catch the sound. "…believe he left you here like this…should have listened to me…stayed home…." She leaned forward still. The sudden crunch of a branch behind her made her jump, and the cloaked figure looked up. Shit! Yet, even as she watched, he shifted, the sudden roaring painful to her ears. The newly formed raven flew upward in a flurry of ebony feathers, and was lost in the treetops.

Behind her, the thestral croaked its call, and Kylin sighed, rubbing its scaled neck comfortingly. It hadn't liked the guy much either. The leathery wings arched slightly, and it leaned into her scratching fingers as Kylin thought about what she'd just seen. Slowly, she stepped forward, her eyes searching. There, at the base of the tree, a long, white bone was partially uncovered. She frowned. "I don't understand," she whispered, and the thestral crooned again, rubbing its head against her shoulder.

--

By the time she made it back to the castle, the Potions class was over, and the others were sitting at the Gryffindor table for lunch. She took the empty seat by Neville, still lost in her thoughts as she poked idly at her food. He was a Shifter, he'd been digging up a bone, and he changed into a raven. It all had to connect to something.

"KY!"

Kylin jumped, her fork clattering to the plate. "What?"

"Where did you go?"

She met Leon's gaze with her own, even though it wasn't him that asked the question. She didn't want to fight right now. "I…had to think," she finally said. Picking up the fork again, she speared a green bean, chewing on it thoughtfully.

"Okay, where were you thinking? We looked everywhere for you."

"Ron, don't be ridiculous. You didn't look everywhere for me because you obviously didn't find me, did you?"

"Cut it out, Kylin. Where did you go?"

That time, it was Leon, and she felt her anger boil. "I saw a man dig up a bone and turn into a bird," she seethed.

"That's not a where."

"No, but it probably answered your next question, didn't it?"

"Whe—"

"The Forest, okay? I went to the Forbidden Forest, and I saw a guy in a cloak dig up a bone, and when he saw me, he turned into a raven and flew off."

She was getting really tired of everyone staring at her like she'd spouted a fourth head. Gritting her teeth, she reached into her pocket and threw her evidence to the table. The bone bounced, coming to rest against the pitcher of pumpkin juice. "There it is. That's what he was digging up. I found it after he turned into a raven."

Hermione inhaled slowly, looking around at the glances they were receiving. Even as Harry picked the bone up, she whispered. "Kylin, sit down, please. We'll talk about this after classes…"

She did sit down, but with great reluctance. It was not going to be a good day….


End file.
